


Oh Dreams, Oh Memories

by the_other_lutece_sister



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, OHANA MEANS FAMILY, Rock Band AU, Sestras, code pink, propunk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 03:25:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13022253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_other_lutece_sister/pseuds/the_other_lutece_sister
Summary: The long awaited (by at least three people!) sequel to 'let's give them something to talk about', (which you should definitely read first because it's waaaaay better) The band is on tour and stuff happens!





	Oh Dreams, Oh Memories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [piggy09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/gifts).
  * Inspired by [let's give them something to talk about](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8577940) by [the_other_lutece_sister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_other_lutece_sister/pseuds/the_other_lutece_sister). 



i.

The bus stopped with a jerk, and there was a heavy _thud_ as someone rolled out of their bunk and hit the floor. Luckily, it was covered with a variety of clothing thrown there after last night’s show, big bags of t-shirts with the band name emblazoned across them, and still-damp towels, ensuring a soft (if somewhat smelly) landing. The mass of bleached blonde curls merely burrowed into the pile and went back to sleep.

 

A voice that promised to be a lot angrier when it was properly awake slurred _bloody hell._ There was a stiff rustling noise and another sleepy voice saying _oh wow...there’s, like, a whole coyote family out there...that’s so awesome._ A third, slightly nervous voice whispered _they’re going away from the bus, right?_ The first voice made a snorting sound and said _oh fer...Alison, they can’t open bus doors!_

_My GOD, will you all be quiet, it’s 5am!_ snapped another voice from the coveted double bed in the back of the bus.

_YOU shut up, Rachel!_ shouted the first voice, then groaned as the sound rebounded into her own ears.

“Sorry about that, ladies,” drawled a cheerful voice from the front of the bus. “Didn’t wanna hit the puppers!” The engine started up again, and in a few minutes they were back on the road.

 

Cosima put on her most reassuring voice, and began to soothingly explain the territorial habits of coyotes to Alison, punctuated by yawns.

Sarah rolled over and stuck her head under the pillow. It was too early to be awake after the night they’d had, and her mouth tasted like bourbon that had been recycled several times. Her lips twitched into a smile. Great bloody gig, though.

Further back, Rachel adjusted her charcoal silk eye mask with small, tight movements and lay her head back down on the matching pillowcase. Sharing the limited space of the tour bus hadn’t been _quite_ as awful as she had expected, but right now she would _kill_ all of them for another three hours uninterrupted sleep, at _least_. She sighed. Helena was snoring again. _Why didn’t I buy more ear plugs yesterday?_ she thought blearily and squished the pillow up around her ears.

 

They’d only been on tour for three weeks - not long enough to get jaded, but on the verge of being heartily sick of diner food. Except for Helena. She declared every no-star roadside cafe a ‘nice restaurant’, and would clean her plate and everyone elses, then go back for seconds. Sarah would watch her eat with incredulous amazement, and not a small amount of affection. There was a lot she didn’t know about her twin’s previous life, but she’d guessed some stuff, and Helena would sometimes talk to her, in those small, quiet moments in the middle of the night when they were both awake.

They’d sit next to a window near the front, watching the world race past, and the stars, and whisper to each others reflections, and usually fall asleep leaning on each other. Sarah would wake up with blond hair in her mouth and Helena would squeeze her hand before rummaging for her sticks, and taking a seat next to Tony - their driver, roadie, sound guy and all-around shenanigan enabler. They’d both sing along loudly to whatever crap was on the radio, Helena with her legs splayed out on the dashboard and drumming furiously, sharing whatever weird and wonderful snacks Tony had secreted away in the various nooks and crannies.

Sarah would go crash on her bunk for a while. If she got really bored, she’d roll up dirty socks and throw them down the length of the bus, trying to land them on Rachel. Fortunately for both of them, she was a terrible shot. If one landed near enough, Rachel would simply stab it with a fork and toss it out the window, lying back down with the trace of a satisfied smirk on her otherwise expressionless face.

 

They’d left a trail of Sarah’s socks from Toronto to New York.

 

ii.

“WoooOOOOOOOooo,” the howl echoed off the ceiling of the club, and dust sparkled in the afternoon sun that peeked in the high windows.

 

“Arooooooooo!” Helena joined in with Sarah, and they jostled against each other, shoulders bumping. Alison fluttered a little behind them, torn between shushing them, and gazing around the imposingly large space that they hoped to fill tonight. Cosima was right behind her, saying _dude_ repeatedly to Tony, who made a beeline for the mixer and started to talk shop, leaving Cos to wave her arms around at Alison instead, as they both took in the red velvet curtains, the retro booth seating, the weird wooden chandeliers, and the murals snaking around the walls that Alison decided she wasn’t going to look _too_ closely at.

Rachel walked in a way behind them all, her heels clicking on the polished concrete floor, face lifted to take in the lighting rig, then the height of the stage. She turned in a tight circle, scanning the seating and the small balcony area above, then nodded, looking satisfied. She headed to the stairs that led up to the stage.

Sarah paused to watch her walk past, eyes dropping to the sway of hips in a fitted black skirt, and Helena chortled in her ear as she easily put her in a headlock.

 

“Hey,” Sarah protested weakly, tugging at her sister's arm, “not...fair...meathead.”

 

Helena made loud kissing sounds in Sarah’s ear and let her go.

 

“Too easily distracted, sestra,” she said. Her eyes glittered as she pulled her drumsticks out of the depths of her coat, tossing one up in the air and catching it as it spun down. She used it to point at the stage. “Look, I have stage of my own!” The drum set did indeed sit on its own square stage, cymbals shining brassily against the red backdrop. “I can _see_ everything,” she added happily and, still spinning her sticks in her fingers, leapt up the stairs after Rachel and slid her way behind the drums, launching into a cacophony of noise while Rachel hummed into a microphone.

 

Sarah shrugged, and followed Alison and Cosima up the stairs, finding her guitar in the mess of cases behind the curtain, and perching in front of the drums to tune it, fingers moving deftly. Once it sounded right, she began to strum along with Rachel’s voice, and they segued into one of the new songs. They still had _this_ , at least. Even when they weren’t even talking to each other, they’d still had this.

Helena picked up the beat, then Alison joined in, picking at the keys, and Cosima finally got her bass plugged in. It rumbled for a moment before she got in the groove.

 

After half an hour, a handful of songs, and a lot of shouting back and forth between them and Tony, sound check was done.

 

“Nice acoustics,” Sarah offered to the back of Rachel’s head. “Reckon it’ll go off tonight.”

 

“Mmm,” Rachel murmured as she stared down at her phone, shoulders tense as she tapped at it, then slid it back into her bag. Sarah opened her mouth to say something snarky, but paused as she noticed Rachel start to pick at the skin around her nails before catching herself and smoothing the front of her skirt instead.

 

They weren’t exactly _friendly,_ not since that night eight months ago, but they were civil enough these days, and Sarah found herself lowering her voice and sidling closer.

 

“You alright, Duncan? Bad news or somthin’?” She tried to keep her tone casual, but it came out like she _cared_ and she wanted to bite her tongue off.

 

Rachel lifted her head, seeming somewhat taken aback.

 

“On the contrary,” she said dryly. “My parents will be attending tonight.”  Her eyes flicked up to where Helena sat, then back to Sarah.

 

“Oh, right,” Sarah put her hands in her pockets and rocked back and forth. She’d always got the impression that the Duncan’s didn’t approve of the band, or rock’n’roll in general, or indeed any music at all if it wasn’t classical, or maybe opera. S, on the other hand, had been to as many gigs as she could get to back home, proud as punch that Sarah was forging her own punk path. “That’s...nice?” she ventured. “Them comin’ all this way and all.”

 

Rachel half rolled her eyes.

 

“They’re in town for business. They would never…” she broke off, as if remembering who she was talking to, and her face closed up. “It doesn’t matter,” she ended curtly, “I’m going to head to the hotel.” Sarah watched her walk away, teeth in her lower lip, noting the more-than-usual precision of her steps.

 

“Can’t wait to introduce them to Helena,’ she called out, and swore she saw a smile flash across Rachel’s face as she glanced back. The sun caught her blonde hair as she made her way backstage, and Sarah could hear her shoes clicking on wood until the heavy clunk of the side door told her she was gone.

Sarah ran a hand through her hair, and rubbed at the back of her neck.

_Dammit._ This was their first headline gig on this tour, and their very first New York show. They’d been told to think of it like a taster tour. A handful of supports, a few of their own shows, then back to Toronto for the album launch, and after that, a proper big time tour of their own.

And they needed to be on top of their game, especially tonight.

She jumped nearly a foot in the air as a cymbal smashed, spinning around to see Helena grinning behind the drums.

 

“Bloody hell!” Sarah shouted, heart pounding, “Helena, you little shit!”

 

Helena blew a raspberry, then shrugged.

 

“Do not worry. Rachel will be good tonight.” She nodded. “She will make sure.”

 

“Yeah?” Sarah said, adding hurriedly, “Not that I give a shit.”

 

Helena gave her a look very similar to the one Rachel had, flicking a stick around her fingers.

 

“You give many shits, sestra.”

 

“Shut _up_.” Sarah snapped, then she smirked. “C’mon, let’s go check out the hotel. Can’t believe we get to sleep in a proper bloody bed tonight.”

 

iii.

Travelling on a bus had the advantage of getting the band around while they slept, but after three weeks of bunk beds and sharing the tiny shower between the five of them _and_ Tony, they were all ready for some luxury. They weren’t at the five-star hotel level - yet - but just having queen-size beds all to themselves was lush, and as for proper indoor plumbing...well. Alison had actually cried at the sight of the shining white tiled bathroom adjoining her room.

Somehow it had worked out that Alison and Cosima’s room shared a bathroom with Tony’s, and Sarah and Helena’s shared a bathroom with Rachel. Sarah suspected this had been some sort of deliberate manoeuvre by Cos, who _still_ found it hilarious to push the two of them into awkward situations, no matter how many times Sarah had threatened to punch her.

Of course, Cosima _knew_ that she never would. Even when Sarah had pointed out, very loudly, that Cos had been the one saying inter-band relationships were bad news, she just waved it away, and cracked some terrible joke about singers and guitar players that she’d just made up.

 

For a while, Sarah couldn’t even _look_ at Rachel. Logically, she knew she was right about the band and complicating things. But then she would remember precisely how Rachel’s lip had felt on her own, the light touch of her fingertips on her skin, and everything else would drop away. If she looked at her, she wanted to grab her and do it again. But Rachel hadn’t even wanted to _try_ . So, it was just easier _not_ to look at her.

And Rachel gave no sign of even thinking about it, although the cutting remarks she made about the series of blondes Sarah had very publicly snogged in the aftermath revealed that, possibly, she thought about it as much as Sarah did.

 

But after the anger and the brooding silences and the feigned indifference, the two of them had managed to work their way up to civility. For the good of the band. Sarah stopped snogging blondes, or at least, stopped doing it where Rachel was bound to catch them. And Rachel wound back on the disapproval slightly, although she smiled less than she ever had, throwing all her energy into the business side - she was practically their manager in everything but name.

Except...she talked to Helena, sometimes, quietly. Sarah had seen them a few times, at the tail end of late nights, heads together in a corner.

“What the hell do the two of you talk about anyway?’ Sarah had demanded one morning after, and Helena had scratched her nose thoughtfully.

“Family?” she ventured.

“Family,” Sarah had echoed. That word was a loaded one, what with their histories, but…

“Yes.” Helena had continued. “We - “ she pointed to the rest of the band outside the bus window, Cosima and Tony sharing a joint, Alison pointedly waving her hands and screwing up her nose at the smell, Rachel standing apart and sipping a coffee, designer sunglasses covering half her face and lips perfectly red even at nine am. “ - are family. I think...Rachel wants this too.”

Sarah snorted.

“Pretty sure she has her own bloody family, meathead.” And everything else money can buy, she thought with a stab of bitterness.

Helena had looked at her patiently, then looked out at Rachel, pressing her lips together.

“N-o,” she said slowly, “I do not think so.”

Sarah couldn’t say anything to that. She’d grabbed Helena’s hand and squeezed it tightly, then jumped up to grab her guitar and play away the weird feeling in her chest.

 

Now, Sarah lay stretched out on her comfy wide bed, listening to Helena mutter and twitch in her sleep, and the beat of the shower in the next room, and tried desperately not to think about who was in there.

 

iv.

When Sarah woke up, blinking and confused, dreams lingering, the light outside had changed and she sat up in a panic, groping for the alarm clock. 6.47pm.

“Oh, thank fuck,” she groaned and rubbed her eyes, squinting over at the other bed. Empty except for discarded packets of jerky, and cookie wrappers. She got up and crossed the floor, knocked at the bathroom door, entering when there was no reply.

Then she knocked at the door to Rachel’s room.

 

“Hey, Duncan, you there?” No sound. “I’m gonna jump in the shower, so if you need the bathroom…” She pressed her ear to the door but heard nothing, wondering if she was in there but keeping quiet. Shrugging, she started to strip, her clothes spreading like a patch of black mould across the white tiles. The hot water needled the muscles of her back and she stayed under it until her fingertips started to wrinkle, trying to wash away the dream she’d had of Rachel kissing her onstage and then shoving her off the edge.

 

When she made it down to the hotel bar, she found Tony and Helena huddled together at the counter, drinking beers and taking flagrant advantage of the free bar snacks on offer. Sarah caught the eye of one of the vest-and-tie clad women behind the bar, grinned and ordered a whiskey. Her money was waved away.

 

“First one is totally on the house! I was, like, so excited when I heard you all were staying _here_. Just promise me you’ll do ‘a drive to nowhere’ tonight?” The bartender leaned over, green eyes sparkling under blonde curls. “I _love_ that song! It really speaks to me, y’know?”

 

Sarah laughed, and glanced at her name tag.

 

“Yeah, alright then,” she said easily, “cheers, Krystal.”

 

Krystal beamed, and bounced over to refill the bowls of nuts and chips in front of Helena and Tony, giggling when Tony winked at her.

‘A drive to nowhere’ had been released as a single, currently climbing the charts in all sorts of places, and a bunch of fan-filmed live videos had been popping up as well. They had _fans_ , and a lot of them.

Sarah sipped her whiskey, the smokey liquid tasting like heaven. Alison was the next to join them, ordering a pinot blanc after studying the wine list, bangs perfectly smooth and button-up perfectly ironed. Sarah had changed into a clean version of her usual black jeans-loose black tee combo, and Helena wore some weird striped pants she’d found in a thrift shop and a baggy shirt that allowed her arms to move freely, but covered her shoulders and back. Sarah’s hair was still slightly damp and starting to frizz up - in a while it would look like a photo negative of Helena’s wild mop.

Then Cosima breezed in, in a patterned dress and bright orange tights, and half an arm of bracelets jangling as she waved at Sarah.

 

“Am I late?” she laughed, flashing her canines at Krystal, who seemed to have appointed herself their personal bartender. She skimmed the menu, threw it back on the bar and said “Hmm, something red. Surprise me!”

Krystal studied her for a moment, nodded, and poured her a red zinfandel. Cosima widened her eyes appreciatively as she tasted it, giving Krystal a thumbs up, then turning to lean back against the bar next to Sarah.

 

“Yer on time, for once,” Sarah told her, turning her glass around and around in her hands, “Rachel isn’t here yet. What time we get picked up?” Management had organised a driver for them while they were in New York, the bus being safely parked elsewhere and undergoing a thorough clean. Alison checked her phone.

 

“Ten minutes,” she informed them. “It’s not like Rachel to be...oh. Here she is.” She nodded at the door and Sarah turned her head, eyebrows raising as she took in the sight moving towards her. Rachel wore white - of course, she always wore white onstage - but this one was slightly racier than usual, and she wore her highest black heels. The neck was high, and the sleeves looked wrist-length but were slit up to her toned biceps, allowing the fabric to fall in dramatic folds when she lifted an arm. The skirt reached just past her knees but the splits up either side exposed pale skin halfway up her thighs and Sarah’s mind was suddenly blank of everything but how damn hot she was. She mechanically lifted her glass and took a large sip, trying to look unimpressed.

Cosima gave her a loud wolf whistle, and Rachel almost smiled. Her lipstick somehow looked redder than usual, and when she stood next to Sarah at the bar, she could smell her perfume - a change from the usual woody scent to something darkly floral.

 

Sarah emptied her glass, and found her voice again.

 

“Ready to kick some arse, Duncan?” She leaned in slightly, feeling her leg start to jump under her, the next words falling out of her mouth. “You look amazin’.”

 

Rachel looked up through her lashes, and her mouth curved slightly, then she looked down again. A silver nailed hand reached out to grasp the martini that Krystal had set down almost reverentially on the bar in front of her. Sarah grinned.

 

“She’s a fan,” she said to Rachel in low tones. “Oh, and we have ‘drive’ on the setlist, yeah?” She nodded at the blonde behind the bar. “Gotta dedicate it to Krystal here.”

 

Rachel raised an eyebrow, sipped her martini, then nodded approvingly. Krystal, who had somehow managed to keep watching Rachel the entire time she was serving other people, looked relieved. Sarah saw their driver hovering at the entrance, and clapped her hands together.

 

“Right, let’s go!” she called out. Helena jumped up, tipping an entire bowl of cashews into her mouth while Tony necked his beer. Cosima tipped her glass up, and Alison demurely took one more sip and left the rest. They’d all pretty much figured out where their pre-show levels were by now - no one played drunk, but they allowed themselves to chill out a little.

Except Rachel. As a rule, she never drank before going onstage, and Sarah frowned as she watched her empty the martini glass, wondering if she was actually nervous about performing in front of her parents. She’d never thought Rachel could be nervous about _anything_.

But then Helena swooped past and whispered something into her ear, and Rachel smirked, and Sarah stopped worrying.

 

It was gonna be a night to remember. She could just feel it.

 

v.

As they piled in the side door of the club, the noise from the front of house hit them - buzzing voices and low-key guitar rock. A local band was doing a short set in support, and Helena grabbed Sarah’s hand to drag her to stage left, so they could watch. She bounced in her cowboy boots while Sarah slid her hands into her back pockets and tapped her foot. A lot of energy for two people, she thought admiringly.

Tony had peeled off to get settled at the mixing desk with a beer and the cute in-house sound guy, Cosima had wandered off to join the crowd, and Alison decided to find the piano she’d been told was in the green room and practice. That left Rachel with the twins, holding her phone in tight fingers until it buzzed. She closed her eyes and sighed.

 

“My parents.” Her free hand smoothed the pristine white fabric over her ribs. Sarah hesitated.

 

“Do you want us to come along? Love to meet the folks,” she lied. Meeting the scary rich parents of the girl she’d been roundly rejected by wasn’t high on her list. But Rachel just looked so goddamn tense.

 

Rachel tilted her head and looked at her, as if considering it. Her lips tightened as the phone buzzed again.

 

“No. It’s fine. I should - “ Her hand smoothed down her dress again, and she left.

 

“Hey, Helena, you wanna go…” Sarah pointed in the direction of the bar. She definitely wanted another drink, but mostly she wanted to get a look at the Duncans.

The two of them slipped through the crowd, people giving them curious glances and then doing double-takes when they recognised them, but thankfully being far too cool to hassle them for selfies or autographs. Sarah grinned as she remembered that girl in Portland who’d asked her to write a line from one of their songs on her skin so she could get it tattooed over - she’d assumed arm, but she’d wanted it on her thigh, and…

Helena nudged her and pointed with her chin.

The Duncans, all three of them, were sitting in one of the booth seats that sat above the floor, and lined the side walls, Rachel sitting stiffly across from a rather scruffy middle-aged man who was smiling bemusedly as he looked around the room, and a woman of the same age but much more polished appearance. Her silvery-blonde hair was contained in an elegant updo, and her lips were pursed in distaste for her surroundings. She was studying Rachel with a look of resigned disappointment.

Sarah hated her on sight.

Helena sidled through groups of people until she was close enough to the booth to hear, waggling her fingers at Rachel. Sarah followed, glancing at Rachel and raising her eyebrows. Rachel gave the tiniest shake of her head.

 

_This is a very, uh, lively place, isn’t it?_ Her father was saying

_Really, Rachel, this is the kind of environment you spend your time in now?_ Mrs Duncan spoke over her husband. _I hoped you would’ve gotten this nonsense out of your system by by now._

Rachel spoke calmly, but Sarah could hear the edge of anger in her words.

_This is one of the most successful clubs in the city, mother, if not the country. Every show we’ve done has exceeded expectations_ , _and I -_

_If you were so intent on a career in_ music _, you should be playing in the symphony orchestra, at the very least. All those years of violin and piano lessons...what a waste._

She said the word ‘music’ as if it meant scrounging in the gutter, and Sarah bristled in anger.

_Now, Susan, we’re here to support -_

_We’re here because_ you _insisted, Ethan._

_Will the two of you stop making a scene,_ hissed Rachel.

 

Sarah and Helena looked at each other, identical scowls on their faces. Then Sarah felt her phone buzz in her pocket, and saw Helena grab at hers as well. Rachel picked up hers from the table and tapped at it with silver nails, breaking into a satisfied smile.

Sarah grabbed at Helena’s hand as she quickly scanned the message from Leda Records.

  **...pleased to inform you that your song ‘a drive to nowhere’ has reached the #1 spot on…**

 

“Holy shit!” The two of them hugged and jumped up and down, Sarah whooping loudly, loud enough to attract more than a few stares. Cosima crashed through the crowd and joined in, wrapping her arms around the twins.

 

“Did you get it? Can you believe it? Where are the others?”  Cosima babbled, grinning ear to ear. Sarah broke off and leapt up the step to the booth seating, slapping her hands down on the table and making the Duncans jump. Rachel looked up at her, face glowing.

 

“We did it,” she said, voice tightly packed full of the emotion she usually kept for singing.

 

“Yeah,” said Sarah, grinning, wanting to kiss her so badly it hurt. “We did it.” She turned to the Duncans and put on a smile. “You must be Rachel’s parents. She’s amazin’, y’know, dedicated, talented, responsible...works her bloody arse off, handles all our business negotiations.” She leaned over, knuckles on the table, feeling Helena behind her, both of them staring straight at Susan. “You must be _so proud_ of her. _Everyone’s_ gonna know her name now.”

Ethan Duncan blinked behind his glasses, reaching out to pat Rachel on the hand, while Susan glared, tightening her grip on her purse.

She slyly winked at Rachel, who was staring at her, the faintest of blushes high on her cheeks.. “See you back there, yeah?”

 

Rachel nodded, still looking at her in a way that made Sarah want to linger at the table. Just in case Rachel _kept_ looking at her like that. But she walked away, calling herself an idiot for still hoping that…

She sighed and raked both hands through her hair.

 

vi.

They walked out on stage to a roaring crowd, all of them unable to keep the grins off their face. Even Rachel was smiling as she walked out after the others, raising a hand as whoops and whistles welcomed her, her sleeve opening like a curtain.

 

“Hello, New York,” she said simply, nodding at Sarah, who strummed the opening of the new one they’d been working on - ‘a born weapon’. It was the first song that they’d sat down and written _together_ \- oh, it had been a struggle, but Sarah had loved it. Arguing over how the bridge should go and where the keys fit in, and Rachel insisting on the complicated chord structure, pushing the range of Sarah’s guitar playing, and her own voice. They’d deftly avoided the awkward elephant in the room by focusing only on the music...or at least doing a brilliant job of pretending that’s what they were focused on.

And it had been worth it.

Sarah’s fingers flew up and down the strings, Rachel’s voice soared and swooped, and the crowd in front of them swayed and stomped to the beat. Rachel unclipped the microphone and prowled along the front of the stage, the lights following her and making her dress turn a rainbow of colours before returning to pure white. She paused in front of Sarah, one leg out to the side and pointed at the audience, her finger sweeping over the mass of faces.

 

_A born weapon, is what you said, blank face, empty heart, I’ll leave you for dead…_

 

Her mouth dropping open a little, Sarah kept playing, and slowly grinned. Usually Rachel stayed at the mic stand, doing the aloof ice queen bit, but tonight...tonight, she was on _fire_ . Helena threw in some rim taps and Rachel’s hips swayed in time, then she set off down the stage again, legs flashing. Sarah didn’t know if she was embracing the rock star bit as an extra _up yours_ to her mother, or maybe it was the effect of the pre-show martini, or the thrill of finally landing the #1 spot, or a combination, but she just threw her head back and let the music flow through her, her guitar and Rachel’s voice entwining.

When the song ended, the noise of the crowd was deafening.

The blonde nodded, pleased, and held up a hand.

“Tonight,” she announced, “is very special. Not only is it our first show in New York - “ she paused for the enormous cheer that filled the room, “ - but our song ‘a drive to nowhere’ _just_ hit the number one spot...so thank you.” She had to shout the last few words as the crowd went even wilder.

Sarah shaded her eyes from the light, scanning the crowd. There were a lot of blondes in the audience - and a lot of _them_ had adopted Rachel’s signature bob - but she was sure that was Krystal right up front, her arm around a dark-haired girl with bangs.

As the din lowered again, Rachel continued.

“And we’d like to dedicate this song to Krystal, who makes the best martinis in the city.”

 

Sarah whistled sharply and pointed her out in the audience, while Krystal squealed and jumped up and down, grabbing her girlfriend, who covered her mouth with a fist as she grinned. When the song finished, Krystal whooped loudly as the brunette clapped so hard Sarah thought her hands would fall off. Song after song followed, all of them bursting with new energy, the five of them in perfect sync, with the crowd roaring for more.

When Rachel announced their last song (‘duct-taped heart’, the one Sarah had wrote the day after they’d kissed; it didn’t hurt to play it anymore), she had returned to the centre of the stage, standing confidently in her heels. Sarah tore her eyes away from the legs in those heels for the millionth time, turning to pick up her water bottle from in front of the drumkit and noticed Helena glaring out into the audience. When she looked in the same direction, she saw Susan Duncan standing, clearly wanting to leave, Ethan reluctantly moving to let her out of the booth.

Her grip on the guitar tightened. What a bitch. All the fights she’d had with S over the years...but S had never _not cared._ A flash of movement made her look back at Helena, to see her standing, twirling a stick in her left hand, eyes narrowed.

_Uh-oh_ …

Sarah watched in horrified amusement as the stick left Helena’s hand, spun through the air over the heads of the audience as if in slow-motion, and bounced off Susan Duncan’s forehead. Helena nodded, satisfied, and sat back down. She pulled another stick out of a pocket and resumed hitting things. Sarah sputtered laughter before looking over at Rachel, who was staring at her mother with her mouth slightly open before glancing at Helena, her face unreadable.

Susan had stumbled slightly, and put a hand up to her head, but continued walking in an attempt to maintain her dignity. Ethan, having remained behind in the booth, hadn’t even noticed.

A tall girl with red hair was grasping the errant drumstick and punching the air with it, grinning wildly.

  


vii.

After they’d finally got off stage, after the audience demanded encores, after their fingers were sore and throats raspy and clothes damp with sweat, they sprawled across couches in the green room, tipping water bottles down their throats before heading back out into the club

 

“I could get used to this free booze deal,” grinned Sarah, lifting her hair off her neck and piling it on top of her head before dropping it again. They sat in a corner lounge, the low table already cluttered with glasses and bottles - there had been a red velvet rope marking the corner as the VIP area, but she’d sneered at it and shoved it aside. As a result, while they drank and half-shouted at each other over the noise, a few people had approached hesitantly, but after Sarah had waved them in with a wolfish grin and the rest of the band granted signings and photos, a steady stream of fans made their way over.

Rachel sat on one end of the lounge, legs crossed in a way that distracted Sarah no end, and smiled graciously while she wrote on napkins and scraps of paper, and posed for photos. Cosima grabbed peoples hands and leaned into them, making them feel like old friends. Alison nodded and smiled, but loosened up a little after a few drinks, and Helena, sitting on the back of the lounge behind Sarah, talked quietly with her own sub-set of fans. They tended to wear long sleeved shirts and talk in short bursts. Helena would very softly touch their hands and tell them she understood, even if they hadn’t said anything at all.

And Sarah...Sarah would grin and ask what their favourite sing was and then scrawl out a lyric for them, crack a joke and send them away smiling. Sometimes she wondered when it become as easy to make people happy as make them hurt. Easier, even.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d punched someone. _Going soft, Manning_ , she muttered to herself. Her gaze drifted back over to Rachel, and she leaned her head on her hand, watching as she interacted with the small crowd in front of her.

_She’s bloody loving this_ , Sarah thought without rancor. She felt like one small piece of the puzzle that was Rachel Duncan had fitted into place, and her own lingering anger had eroded even more. Rachel looked up and met her eyes, and Sarah just smiled at her, lifting her glass in a salute. Something about Rachel’s face softened and she tilted her head and smiled back. The moment was interrupted by a vivacious Krystal with her dark-haired friend in tow.

 

“Ohhh my god, you guys were _amazing,”_ squealed the blonde, clapping her hands together and flashing pink and gold nails. She reached out and pulled the other girl in, beaming proudly. “This is my girlfriend Veera, she’s like, _so_ smart. You’ve seen the website, right? It’s totally the best - “ Krystal leaned forward, stage-whispering “ - and she _made_ it! I mean, she’s a _genius_!”

Veera shuffled her feet and smiled shyly at the band.

 

“Oh dude, that’s so cool,” laughed Cosima. She waved both hands at Veera, bangles jangling wildly. “Come on over to the hotel tomorrow, we’ll give you, like, an _exclusive_.”

 

Veera’s eyes lit up, and Krystal pressed a hand to her chest.

 

“You all are just sooo awesome!” She turned to Veera, slinging an arm around her and pulling her close. With her other hand she rummaged in her tiny bag and pulled out a card, holding out it to Rachel. “I also do manicures...I mean, that’s my main thing, the bartending is just, y’know, for money. I wanna open my own salon one day.”

 

“Krystal is very talented,” offered Veera, holding out her nails that featured black lines over a shimmery green. Alison looked impressed. Cosima squinted through her glasses.

 

“Oh, hey, they’re like, tiny circuit boards,” she said, eyes sparkling. “Neat!” Veera nodded. Rachel took the card between two silver nails, handing it to Alison, who filed it away in the special card holder she’d made.

Suddenly a figure lunged out of the crowd and leapt over Sarah to land full length on the couch, kicking her on the way.

“Oi!” she shouted, punching his leg.

Helena chortled and leaned over to slap Tony on the shoulder. Then she rubbed her fingers together and widened her eyes at him.

Tony rolled over on his back and smirked back at her, making a show of patting his pockets until pulling out a handful of rustling packets. He began to throw them at  Helena, one by one.

 

“Peanuts! Corn chips! Uh, chilli beef jerky!” He frowned and checked another pocket. “Sour gummy worms!”

 

Sarah shoved his feet off her knees and stood.

 

“Think you kicked me right in the bloody bladder,” she moaned, ‘Gotta go to the loo.” The VIP seats were close to the stage, so she just had to duck around the side and go through a door and down a corridor to get to the private bathroom, leaving Alison tipsily trying to braid Tony’s hair.

When she came back out into the corridor, Rachel was standing there, one shoulder barely touching the wall, her white dress a spotlight on the crimson flocked wallpaper. She turned her head.

 

“Hello Sarah,” she said, the ‘S’ an extended sibilant sound. Her eyelashes fluttered a little.

 

“Uh, hey?” Sarah was a bit taken aback, but then Rachel focused her gaze and stepped closer, still lightly leaning on the wall. The heels echoed off the shiny black floor. Sarah swallowed and scratched her head, suddenly wary. “Look, you’re not mad at Helena, right? The stick just, y’know, slipped out of her hand and…”

 

Rachel gave a short laugh.

 

“No,” she said, amused. “I’m not mad at Helena. Quite the opposite.” Her hands cupped her elbows. “My mother is...well.” A shoulder lifted in a tight shrug.

 

“Yeah,” Sarah breathed out, relieved. For a second, she had thought Rachel had cornered her for a ticking off. “I guess I got lucky with S after all. Used to be in a band herself, back in London. Helped me get my first guitar and all that.”

 

_And she’d go into shock hearing me say something nice about her._ Her hands couldn’t stay still, so she shoved them in her back pockets, wishing she had her guitar right now. Something to fiddle with so she could pretend she was cool with being alone with Rachel. They hadn’t been alone together since that night. And there was never a chance of it happening since they got on the bus - it was built-in travelling family.

Something panged in her chest.

 

“I’m gonna miss this,” she said, almost surprised, leaning back next to Rachel. “The bus an’ all.”

 

Rachel smirked, rolling her eyes.

 

“Personally, I can’t wait to get away from all of you,” she retorted. Her head tilted and she looked at Sarah. “But I will miss...some of it.”

 

“Yeah?” Sarah cocked an eyebrow, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Her elbow brushed against Rachel’s and she became acutely aware of the patch of skin that was touching her, so she laughed too loud. “You gonna miss Helena’s snoring? Alison’s cleaning lectures? Tony’s bloody driving?” She tipped her head back and looked up at the ceiling. She should get back out there, party on, talk to the fans...but...she turned her head back towards Rachel and found her darkened hazel eyes still staring at her.

_I’ll miss_ you, she wanted to say, _the way you smile when you finally get a decent cup of tea, and how your hair looks like actual gold in the morning sunlight, and...shite._

Realising they had been standing in silence, Sarah laughed again, sheepishly, and shuffled her boots.

 

“m’ gonna head back out…” she pushed herself off the wall. “What a night, ‘ey?”

 

“Yes.” Rachel replied, her voice shaded with meaning. “It was worth it.” She ran her hands down the front of her dress, nails flashing silver, then one hand snaked out and wrapped around Sarah’s arm. “It was all worth it,” she repeated, and took one step forward. Sarah looked up at her, feeling her heart begin to hammer in her chest.

 

Then Rachel took another step so she was lightly pressed up against Sarah, sliding her hand up Sarah’s arm, trailing her nails up her neck, and then cupping her head and pulling it up so their lips met.

 

Sarah’s heart was beating so fast and so loudly that she was sure Rachel could hear it, if not feel it against her, but she didn’t care. She slipped her hands around Rachel’s waist, resting on the curves of her hips and tasted gin as she sank into the kiss. It felt like a dream.

 

And then that actual dream she’d had flashed into her mind and she jerked her head back, wondering if this was some sort of game Rachel was playing. But her lips were parted and her eyes dark and she was still holding Sarah close...her touch loosened and her hand slid down, the palm coming to rest just above the swell of Sarah’s breasts.

Rachel raised her eyebrows.

 

“Sarah?” Her voice was less than steady.

 

“Uh, I’m just…” Sarah hesitated. “If this is some weird way to get back at your mother, or…” _Just shut up and kiss her you bloody idiot,_ yelled part of her, the part that had been wanting this since forever. Rachel’s head tilted.

 

“My mother isn’t here, Sarah,” she said drily. Sarah’s heart thumped against her palm.

 

“Yeah, but...look,” she sighed. “Last time this didn’t go real well, did it?” Her hands were still on Rachel’s hipbones and she didn’t want to let go. What if she didn’t? What of this could be real? What if she was just tipsy and high on success? What if -

Rachel’s eyes dropped to her hand on Sarah’s chest, and her mouth curved as the heart under it thumped against bone.

 

“Everything is different now,” she murmured. “You won’t need duct tape this time,” and then they were kissing again, Sarah slipping her hands further around and pulling Rachel closer before reaching blindly for the wall and pushing her up against it. Nails scratched at her lower back, and she moaned softly into Rachel’s mouth.

 

Neither of them noticed the door out to the club opening slightly and a row of faces peeking through, or hear Helena threaten to steal Cosima’s glasses if she didn’t leave her sestra and Rachel _alone right now,_ or witness Krystal and Veera making _I told you so_ faces at each other. They didn’t notice Alison clasping her hands to her heart and making _awww_ noises, slurring a little. They didn’t even notice Tony clapping his hands and announcing the _show was over, let’s get back to the afterparty, kids._

 

Sarah and Rachel kept kissing, and let their hearts sing.

**Author's Note:**

> I always know when you're in the room  
> You're hotter than a hot thing on a hot day  
> Oh, I love what you do
> 
> A total eclipse  
> I've forgotten my name  
> And now I'm pining for you, honey  
> Yes, I called you honey  
> Feel like I don't know a single thing I knew before, because the
> 
> Dreams, oh, dreams  
> Oh, memories  
> Oh, hold me in the caverns of the mind  
> Oh, dreams  
> Oh, memories  
> Oh, hold me in the caverns of the mind
> 
>  
> 
> And so I persist  
> 'Cause I can't get you out of my head  
> Obsession is a fine word for it  
> As long as no one wakes up dead
> 
> Yeah, tell me you love me  
> Ooo, I'm praying you do  
> Because I've given myself completely, not at all discreetly
> 
> It's 6AM and I'm crying to a beer
> 
> Oh, dreams  
> Oh, memories  
> Oh, hold me in the caverns of the mind
> 
> [ODOM](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1lheNLKOZo) \- Wallis Bird 
> 
> (this song is a banger, but if you wanna feel some Emotions™ listen to her song 'Home')

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [All Access](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16824949) by [YaYaSestrahood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaYaSestrahood/pseuds/YaYaSestrahood)




End file.
